


To Coalesce

by MoiraStardust



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: An AU of sorts??, F/F, Moira regrets so much, They love each other, idk this is my first thing ever on here, im moicy trash??, implied past relationship??, moira being moira, shes evil but she’s hot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 08:28:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14304771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoiraStardust/pseuds/MoiraStardust
Summary: Moira reminisces on her past wrongdoings involving Angela.





	To Coalesce

Moira lay on her back as she stares silently up at the ceiling. From beside her she can hear Angela’s calm breathing, much too calm after a night of pleasure.  
She smiles a little bit. Her lips are still sore, a bit bloody even.  
She decides to turn on her side, scooting as close to Angela as she can without waking the woman. Wraps an arm around the Swiss. Then a leg.  
She sighs then.  
Catching feelings for someone she rightfully shouldn’t have was exhilarating. Arousing, even.  
She was Moira; a member of Talon.  
A member of Talon who was in bed with a former member of Overwatch. That may have been the most exhilarating part of it all. They should’ve been enemies.  
And they had been. For a time.  
Angela hated Moira the moment she found that the redhead had stolen her work. She broke it off with them, all that they had built, and swore she’d never speak to Moira again.  
This was before Overwatch was coming back, and was before they had happened to cross paths during duty. It had been after a long while of not speaking.  
And Angela—she was beautiful. Her hair was no longer shoulder length; it was tied neatly into a ponytail but no doubt cascaded down to the small of her back if taken out. She was a sort-of angel. Flying through the battlefield; Majestic. Her Valkyrie suit was new to Moira; unheard of.  
Moira quite liked it.  
And Moira? She was more than ashamed to be seen by Angela-Mercy. Wearing the very technology she stole and refined. Looking older—not much older, but noticeable to Angela who hadn’t seemed to age a day. She cursed herself then for staring. For stopping right in her tracks and making eye contact with Mercy. For faltering; smiling, even.  
Later that day as she had been resting while her team continued to fight, Mercy approached. Broke every form of protocol.  
Moira didn’t attack. She kept her gaze low. She was ashamed. Broken, just a little bit. A shell of the amazing geneticist she once was. She was still amazing mind you, but not in the moral eyes of Angela. And Moira found that those were the only eyes she cared to listen to.  
She didn’t even say anything. Just fumbled uselessly with her hands. Ignored the way her cold fingers felt lifeless.  
It was then that Angela-Mercy, god damnit, spoke.  
“Moira?” Was all she could say to keep herself from breaking into choked sobs. Not because she missed this woman. Definitely not. She didn’t miss the gentle hands of the Irish woman. She didn’t miss the soft kisses, the small appraisals. She didn’t.  
And Moira—she looked up. The light behind Mercy was enough to make her glow. She had a staff in her hands, a pistol at her hip. Her blue eyes were burning holes into her pale skin. Sickly pale.  
Moira lifted her hand a little-the one that took-as if to wave. Mercy reached for her pistol. Moira froze.  
“....Are you afraid of me Angela?”  
It was posed as a question, but she sounded vulnerable.  
Mercy simply bit back a snide comment and withdrew her hand.  
“I saw the kinds of things you do for Talon. Sucking the life out of my peers, my colleagues, my friends.” She shook her head. “To think you’d put anyone over your work.”  
Moira realized then that Mercy was crying. A little bit.  
Moira didn’t dare move.  
“Angela—“  
Mercy took a step forward and slapped Moira with enough force to snap her head in the opposite direction. Moira stayed still. Ignored the pain—the dull sting.  
“Don’t call me that.”  
The Talon agent submitted to anything Mercy was about to do to her. Bowed her head.  
“Mercy,” She continued. “For what it’s worth, you have my apologies.”  
Mercy didn’t respond. Didn’t believe her. Couldn’t.  
“How do I know that’s not another lie?”  
Moira shook her head and put her hands behind her back.  
“Shoot me now. End me. Do what you must if you don’t believe me. Purge the world of my presence. Please.”  
It was at that moment that Mercy realized how unhappy Moira must have been with her decision to steal research, and to join Talon. What a poor creature she was now. Worn down by years of loneliness and regret. This was a completely different person than the Moira she had known. The keen, analytical Moira that was kind and downright charming.  
Mercy faltered.  
“I’m not going to do that..” She murmured.  
Moira found herself becoming frustrated. She snapped her head up and in one swift motion, pinned Mercy against the wall. Their height difference was striking. Intimidating. Mercy winced.  
“Why not?! Do you wish to torture me more?!” Her voice was gruff. This must’ve been the first time she’d spoken in at least a week.  
Angela dropped her staff. Didn’t bother to pick it up. She was frozen in fear and in realization that she had done this to Moira.  
Her eyes flicked upwards to meet the heterochromia ones of Moira. Realized the redhead was crying. Tears of anger, maybe of regret. They were tears, nonetheless.  
Angela dipped her head. Bonked her forehead against Moira’s chest. Didn’t mean to. Didn’t care.  
She screwed her eyes shut and let her tears flow, feeling the way Moira stiffened.  
There was silence.  
And then..  
Moira wrapped her arms around Angela despite her anger and despite her confusion.  
“We can’t make this work?” Moira choked out, running her cold fingers through Mercy’s ponytail.  
Mercy shivered under the nearly slimy sensation of the barely human hand, bringing her arms up to wrap around Moira.  
“I’m scared to.”  
Moira nudged her face against Mercy’s hair, ignoring the halo that she adorned. Took in her scent. All too familiar.  
“Me too.”  
But now Moira was embracing Angela in such a way that clouded the idea of them ever breaking their bond. She sighs here at the memory of their reuniting. It’s a good memory, it is—but.  
“God..” She whispers, feeling an intense amount of dread from within.  
She was so unhappy back then. In that period of no Angela. She told herself she was doing good in the act of furthering science. She tried. But she couldn’t even do her work without missing the same positive presence that she now lay with.  
“Did you say something?” Murmurs Angela as she turns in her spot and realizes that Moira is embracing her. Clutching onto her, even.  
Moira freezes and hesitates, unsure of whether to pour out her worries and regrets here.  
But Angela—-she’s right there and can feel when Moira’s grip turns to naught but a ghostwire.  
She props herself up with one arm, blinking away the sleep. “Moira?”  
Moira whines a little, chokes out a sound that seems vulnerable. She doesn’t want to tell Angela what’s bothering her. She doesn’t want to go back to the horrible things she’d done.  
Angela places a warm hand on her bare, freckled arm, rubbing up and down. Moira sighs.  
“What are you thinking about?” Comes Angela’s small voice, not wanting to overstep her bounds and upset Moira.  
The geneticist flinches at Angela’s touch, then leans into it. Looks up to meet her worried blue eyes. It’s dark in the room but she can still make out Angela’s familiar face. She sighs again.  
“I’m sorry.” Was all Moira could say. She lets it out with a long sigh, reaching up to rub her eyes underneath her round glasses.  
Angela’s brow furrows. “For what?”  
Moira shakes her head and rises to get out of the bed, shrugging off Angela’s hand. She rests on the edge, her bare body glistening in the little moonlight that shines.  
Angela scoots to her side of the bed, sitting up and embracing her from behind. Her head rests on Moira’s strong shoulder.  
“..Moira?”  
Another sigh.  
“Angela, I mean it. I’m sorry. I should not have.. stolen anything. I didn’t want to hurt you.”  
She cranes her neck. “You know that, don’t you?”  
There’s a long silence that fills the room and threatens to choke Moira with her own stupidity. She can feel Angela wanting to pull away. But she doesn’t.  
“Do you still worry about that?”  
Moira nods. Once; twice.  
“I’ve come to the conclusion that I was depressed when we split up. It was…”  
She shakes her head and moves to lay on her back, allowing Angela to curl up beside her. Let’s out the breath she doesn’t know she’s holding.  
“Something I didn’t want to come to terms with.”  
Moira feels a gentle hand on her belly, tracing idle circles here and there.  
“I’m sorry for making you feel like that.” Angela mouths against her arm. This prompts Moira to shift a little, lifting the arm so that Angela can rest her head on her chest.  
“....you didn’t do anything.” Comes Moira’s response, her voice similar to a sort-of growl.  
Angela utters a quiet, “psh” and she stops her hand movement for a moment; continues.  
“Don’t say that.”  
The Irish woman wants to respond but she finds her eyes being weighed heavily by drowsiness. Before she can even utter her goodnight, she’s sleeping peacefully—finally—with Angela still in her arms.  
The blonde simply reaches for their blanket, pulling it over them and joining Moira in her slumber.  
They were broken; shells of what they once were. Despite that, they were slowly making it work again. Even if that meant they had to do everything in secrecy.  
After all, a Talon agent and an Overwatch agent was unheard of.  
Exhilarating, even.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry if this is bad I don’t mormally write in this tense...


End file.
